


A Tree Grows on Yavin

by Draco_sollicitus



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bloodburn, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Mando shows up right at the end, Poe Babysits, Post-RotJ, Takes place right before the Mandalorian, The Force Tree, Yavin 4, flangst, loss of parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21967966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draco_sollicitus/pseuds/Draco_sollicitus
Summary: Poe Dameron grows up in the shadow of the Force Tree; left in the care of Shara Bey by Luke Skywalker, the Force Tree becomes a central part of the compound on Yavin 4.After his mother gets sick, Poe Dameron starts to see a child among the roots of the Force Tree. The weird thing is: no one else seems to see it...
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Poe Dameron & Baby Yoda, Poe Dameron & The Force, Shara Bey/Kes Dameron
Comments: 15
Kudos: 165





	A Tree Grows on Yavin

**Author's Note:**

> Poe Dameron was 7 during the events of the Mandalorian, and the Force loves Poe, so who's to say Baby Yoda wouldn't also love Poe Dameron (and vice versa)
> 
> **warnings**
> 
> Canonical death of character (Shara Bey)
> 
> Illness//Death of a parent (Shara Bey) - so, angst and grief

When Shara Bey returns from the war, she brings home the Force.

Not a Jedi, although Luke Skywalker will carry a soft spot for the pilot the rest of his (long) and her (short) life. Not a lightsaber, either, or special texts, or a Loth-Wolf.

No. Shara Bey brings home a piece of the Force tree and plants It near the house her husband built, less than klick away from her family, and lets It put down roots because the war is over. Its light spreads over the farm on Yavin, spirals of energy surrounding the koyo trees and imbuing the fields with a touch more luck than most fields might have, and the harvests are plenty as the tree grows. The harvests are plenty, and the family is happy, and Shara Bey protects this sprig of life given to her by the grandson of the Force almost as fiercely as she protects her son whose curious mind and quick fingers and big heart promise to get him into more trouble than his parents combined.

The Force Tree grows, and Shara Bey watches over it, and her son watches her and learns how to care for all the living things - and the Living Force learns how to care for her son.

* * *

Poe Dameron plays in the shade of the Force Tree as soon as he learns to take a step. 

His mother brings him to the tree when she comes to tend to it; his chubby legs clamber over roots and stones, his eyes wide and brown as he takes in the canopy of the tree. It hums to him - and in the babbling voice of a toddler, the language only a parent can understand, he asks his mother what song It sings. Shara gives him an odd smile and tells him It makes no noise at all, unless he thinks it’s the wind in the tree. 

“Whoosh,” she demonstrates, scooping her son up and swinging him around under her arm. “Whoosh-”

Poe laughs and laughs as his mother maneuvers him around the trunk of the tree, and Shara Bey fills him with such light he forgets about his question, even though her answer wasn’t quite right.

* * *

When he is six years old, his mother and father let him walk to the Force tree by himself. 

Poe is too young to see that his mother’s legs shake when she walks. And they do. They shake where they used to be strong, sturdy like the trunk of a tree, and while Poe knows he is smart and brave, he is too young to know that six might be too young to be walking around a compound as large as their farm by himself.

But Kes Dameron cries when his son can’t see, and Shara Bey holds her husband with arms that are starting to tremble too, and their son walks to the Force Tree with as much love and light in his heart as he ever had, not a shadow touching his soul for as long as his parents can help it.

The roots are still his playground, even if he treats them with more respect than he might a stuffed Loth-cat or a scraped-up model X-Wing. Poe slip-slide-slips his socked feet over the roots, afraid on some instinctive level of what his boots might do to the delicate bark if he wore them, and his hands find whorls and pockets of bark that become canyons and caverns of exploration for the made-up soldiers that play in the war in his mind.

The war hasn’t touched Yavin IV in years; the shadow of it persists, though. It echoes in Kes Dameron’s eyes after they’ve been closed in response to an unexpected noise. It reverberates in Shara Bey even now, her blood twisted and burnt by touching the stars for too long, too quickly. It seeps into the soil and won’t let go and even stains the fabric of the galaxy in ways no one will be able to find for decades - another war, another place, another set of heroes - but Poe doesn’t feel it, not in the shade of the tree.

He reaches up to the leaves with grubby hands, smiling wide with gaps in his teeth, and the Force tree sings to him still. Poe hums back, happy and connecting to everything in the way that only children can to the core of the universe that does, on some level, want to see life succeed. 

_ Poe Dameron,  _ the Force tree whispers to him.  _ Friend of the Force  _ -

Poe likes to be friends with people, so he figures the Force can’t be too different; he turns on his toes in a half-pirouette. Poe stumbles.

There is someone else there, among the roots.

“Hi.” Poe squats down and smiles at the new life-form. “I’m Poe.”

The life-form - small, green, big ears, big eyes, Cute in the way that makes Poe want to hug his middle and make soft, happy noises - stares up at him. 

It’s a baby.

“You’re a baby,” Poe says definitively. The baby makes no argument. “Where’re your parents, baby?”

The baby stares up at the tree, over Poe’s shoulder, and Poe holds out his hand. The baby stares at it, and then, hesitantly, lifts its own, three-fingered hand. 

“Hi,” Poe repeats, his voice softening on an instinct he doesn’t recognize yet. “I won’t hurt you.”

It seems like an important promise to make.

“I’ll wait here until your parents come,” Poe decides. His parents had told him to play outside until Yavin dipped to the horizon - that means a few more hours.

Shara and Kes don’t often ask for privacy, but Poe feels something Important in his stomach about their request today, so he won’t bring his new friend home. Unless its parents haven’t shown up by dinnertime.

“Do you want to play?” Poe asks, and the baby stares at him. “There’s a few things-.”

He digs around in his pockets, hoping to find marbles, but when he looks up, the baby is gone.

Poe looks around so quickly, his neck hurts, but he shrugs and goes back to playing, his stomach telling him the Important thing isn’t over yet. Not at all.

“I saw someone today,” Poe announces at the dinner table. 

Kes Dameron eats his food quietly for once, picking at the kak’ik with his fork, his eyes red-rimmed. Shara Bey sips her water and sets the glass down. She doesn’t eat anything off the full plate in front of her, but Poe’s halfway through his plate and hasn’t noticed.

“Saw someone where, mijo?”

“At the tree.” Poe kicks his chair and continues to eat heartily. “It was a baby.”

“You saw a baby?” Shara seems to think this sweet, judging by her smile. Poe smiles back at her, and she looks away, throat tight because her baby boy is beautiful and it aches to look at him and think about a time where she won’t be able to look at him anymore. “Was it with its parents?”

“Nope.” Poe shook his head and shrugged. “It was green. Little. Big ears.” He thinks about it and grins. “It was  _ so  _ cute, mom.”

“Green?” That gives Shara pause. “Did it say anything?”

“No, mom.” Poe doesn’t roll his eyes because good boys don’t roll their eyes at their moms. “It was a  _ baby _ . And ‘sides, it went away too quick for us to talk.”

“It went away?” Kes asks this time, setting his mostly unused fork down.

“Yep. Poof!” Poe waves his hands demonstratively, slinging some kak’ik off his fork by accident. “Oops. I’ll get it.” He grabs his napkin and jumps down to the floor to wipe up the stew and misses the look his parents give each other, an unreadable language to anyone outside the marriage.

* * *

Poe sees the baby again the next day when his mom takes him out to the tree to tend to some leaves that are withering. She seems perturbed by the leaves shriveling on the western side, the side that faces the old, ruined temples no one likes to talk about, but Poe’s too busy hopping around to notice.

_ Hop, hop, hop - hop, hop, hop, hop - hop, hop: _

Pause _. _

“Hi!” Poe grins at his friend. “You’re back!”

The baby stares at him, making soft, sad noises, and Poe knows it’s afraid, somehow.

“Hey.” Poe kneels down as close as he can get and looks around quickly. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

_ Friend of the Force -  _ the tree whispers to him.  _ Protect  _ -

Poe glances at the tree and sees his mother working; she’s sweating in the cool, late autumn air, and the sun isn’t high yet, so it’s strange to him that she looks so tired. But, the baby touches his arm, and Poe’s breath staggers and he forgets to be worried about his mom because -

_ Scared. So scared. Loud men. Very loud. Confused. Scared.  _

“Hey.” Poe picks the baby up and shushes it on his knee the way he’s seen mothers and fathers do in the nearby village. “It’s okay.”

His arms feel too small even though the baby is tiny, and Poe holds it as tightly as he can. “You’re okay.” 

He envisions all of his muchly-six-year-old-strength as a little ball of light and tries to extend it to the baby, which settles in his arms and makes a different noise, one of sleepiness. “Right. Take a nap.” Poe eyes his mother, who’s still working. “We’ll figure this out when my mom comes over here.”

Shara continues to work for an hour though, and Poe doesn’t let the baby go; he holds it tightly and hums the same song the Force Tree sings to it, and when his arms get tired, he puts the baby down carefully, very carefully among the roots and puts his knitted sweater over it.

“Mom!” He runs as fast as his short legs can over the roots. “Mom, it’s back!”

“What’s back?” Shara looks up from the bucket of leaves, and Poe pants and points to where he’d run from.

“The baby - it’s -” 

The word baby gets Shara moving as quickly as she can, and she holds Poe’s hand tightly as Poe leads the way, talking a mile a minute. Shara’s steps falter when Poe nears where his sweater is lying, and she frowns before Poe notices.

“It’s gone again.” Poe scratches his head and looks every which way. “I swear it was here, mom, really!”

“I believe you.” Shara sits on a large, twisted root that juts above ground and pulls her son in. “I do.”

“I’m sorry.” Poe’s lip quivers for a reason he doesn’t understand. “I’m not lying.”

“I know you aren’t.” Shara strokes her son’s dark curls and smiles at him. “You don’t lie.”

“I don’t,” Poe agrees, eyes filled with confused tears. “It was just here and I think it was in trouble.”

“Alri-” Shara’s breath catches and she coughs into the crook of her elbow.

“Mom?”

“Don’t worry, mijo. I just need to catch my breath.”

Something settles over them, as though the Force Tree is willing one last good afternoon for their family. And it will be the last Good Afternoon; Shara Bey will never quite catch her breath again.

* * *

Luke Skywalker comes to visit three days after Poe tries to show Shara the baby.

He holds a holopad in his lap and asks Poe what he sees.

“You?” Poe tilts his head and frowns. 

They’re in the Force Tree clearing, and Poe’s a little distracted by looking for his friend - Master Luke is here, though, and he’s so smart and so good at helping people. Poe’s sure that if the baby appears when Luke is here, Luke will know what to do.

“No, Poe.” Luke’s smiling though. A nice smile. It feels warm on the inside of Poe’s tummy when Luke smiles at him. “On my screen.”

“I can’t…” Poe looks around, sure his mom is going to be teasing him for something, but she’s sitting on the grass, her chin in her hand, watching him seriously. Poe swallows and looks back to Luke. “Master Luke, I can’t see your screen.”

“Reach out, young one.” Luke taps his fingers on the side of the holopad; it isn’t an impatient gesture, only a refocusing one. “What do you see?”

“A ship,” Poe says suddenly, staring up at the tree and seeing a ship. “I see … an X-Wing!” He looks over and grins at his mom, but she still looks serious, so Poe quiets.

“Good.” Luke nods and swipes something on the holopad. Shara Bey is very tense in the grass. “And now?”

Poe frowns at the Tree, listening to its song and tilting his head. “I don’t see anything, Master Luke, but… I hear something.”

“What do you mean?” Luke looks around, confused. 

“A humming.” Poe shrugs and points at the tree. “I can hear the tree humming.”

“Mijo,” Shara interjects, but Luke shakes his head imperceptibly at her.

“That’s … that’s very interesting, young Master Dameron. And … do you see anything else?”

Poe sits and puts his hand on a root of the tree, still listening to Its song and almost forgets to answer. “I see you,” he says at long last. “I see you, and you’re … you’re so sad, Master Luke.”

“ _ Mijo _ .” Shara’s voice is sharper now. 

“I’m not sad, Poe,” Luke says kindly, but Poe shakes his hand.

“You look sad,” he insists. “But it’s …” He tilts his head and frowns. “It’s not now.”

The Tree hums and bends Its light around Luke Skywalker, and Poe’s pretty sure he can see It, too. 

He doesn’t overhear his mother talking to Luke an hour later; he can’t hear Luke say, “...he’ll be luckier than other pilots, maybe, but … it’s not enough to train him, Shar.”

“I don’t want you to train him,” Shara says just as fiercely. “And what do you mean,  _ most _ pilots? Poe might not be a pilot, and  _ second of all _ -”

Luke doesn’t push the issue because he can feel the bloodburn consuming his friend; he can feel how it threatens to consume the family he cares about it; he can feel how it tears at Kes Dameron, who can’t even look at Shara Bey’s A-Wing without cursing it. 

Luke Skywalker returns to his temple by mid-afternoon, and before the sun is down, the baby returns and stares at Poe from its hiding place behind the Force Tree’s trunk.

“It’s you and me, buddy,” Poe says to the baby, which seems like the right thing to say because it’s what his father says when his mom leaves them alone, ‘just her two boys.’ 

The baby coos at him, and Poe sighs and picks him up, his arms already stronger from their now-established routine.

* * *

Over the next year, Poe sees the baby with more frequency - it’s scared sometimes, upset often, but it’s always eager to hear what he has to say, which is more than Poe can say for most people on the farm.

Shara stays in bed now, and Poe knows she’s sick. The kind of sick you don’t get better from, Kes explains to him one day, a few weeks after Poe turns seven and isn’t really old enough to know, but has to know because Shara might not have a lot of time left. Kes sits with her a lot, and Poe does too, but he likes to be outside, and with Shara sick,  _ someone  _ has to watch out for the Force tree, and someone  _ definitely  _ has to watch out for the baby.

The baby only ever shows up at the tree, and Poe has stopped telling anyone he sees it. The baby needs him, and in a way, he’s starting to need the baby, who loves the books he smuggles out to the tree and hides under a rock; it loves the songs Poe sings to it; it loves the games and flashy vids Poe shows it on his holopad that he rebuilt from parts in the garage of the compound.

Poe and the baby sit in the shade of the Force tree, and Poe prays for two things: for the strength to help the tree protect the baby (which has become a Truth, now, that he needs to protect the baby from whatever’s scaring it), and for Shara Bey to get better.

He isn’t sure either is possible, but it doesn’t stop him from hoping.

* * *

When Poe is seven, something odd happens.

He’s sitting and watching the Baby, who’s wandering around the roots - with halting, clumsy baby steps - when the Baby stops, and looks at him.

“Gah!” The baby says triumphantly, looking over at Poe with  _ something _ radiating out of its eyes. The baby holds his hand out to Poe, who’s been in a weird mood since he heard his parents’ muffled arguing behind a closed door (an argument that ended when Shara started coughing, and Kes started crying ten seconds later), and closes its eyes. 

It holds its hand out to Poe, towards his chest, as though trying to touch him, and Poe smiles and holds his hand out back to the baby. The baby starts to tremble though - and it looks a lot like when Shara trembles, a parallel Poe does  _ not  _ like - and then it sags to the side, and Poe dives to try and catch it.

“What was that, huh?” Poe pats the baby anxiously. “Be careful, buddy.”

The baby sighs up at him and reaches for his nose; Poe lets the baby bop his cheek, and for some reason the achiness that’s lived in Poe’s chest all morning feels a little farther away now, as though it was fading away.

* * *

Poe Dameron knows his mother is sick; and, the more the year goes on, he starts to understand it. And understanding it makes him want to cry all the time, and neither of his parents challenge him when he asks to spend more time at the Force tree because Its shade is the only place where his heart doesn’t throb so much like a broken bone. 

Poe escapes to the tree that year while his mother is dying, and he finds his friend there every time; they scamper among the roots together, and while the baby does not have words, Poe likes to think that the song that comes from the Tree acts an awful lot like a translator. They don’t need words to get along, at least, and sometimes when he’s so sad it’s hard to stand up, Poe’s glad he doesn’t have to reach for words, too.

* * *

One day, at the Force tree, Poe watches the baby play like normal.

It’s cooing to itself, and hasn’t paid Poe much attention, which is fine. Poe’s happy to lean against the tree and watch the baby smile and flounder around, although the baby seems preoccupied by something Poe can’t see. The baby looks up now and then, and then returns to humming and cooing, and Poe wonders if the baby can see Poe’s surroundings, or if there’s something around the baby that  _ he  _ can’t see. 

It hurts his head to think about, so he doesn’t think about it.

But then the Tree surges, and Poe perks up, leaning away from the trunk, as the baby looks at him for a long moment. It tilts its head and closes its eyes, and Poe feels a strong, sudden rush of warmth that feels a lot like when his mom wraps him in her arms and kisses his head a dozen times in a row, and Poe smiles.

The baby looks up, up, up to something Poe can’t see and holds its arms up.

\-  _ Protector,  _ the Tree whispers.  _ Protect the child. _

And the baby vanishes from sight.

Poe stands up, startled, and a wind he cannot feel on his skin shakes the boughs of the Force Tree, sending a cascade of leaves down around him, some settling in his hair, and some settling in the spot where the child once played. 

He comes back to the Force tree every day, but he never sees the baby again.

Four months later, Shara Bey dies. 

And Poe Dameron doesn’t return to the tree for a long time after that. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3 <3 <3


End file.
